


Her Hands Shook

by Redrosesforever



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Death of a child described, Light Angst, PTSD flashback, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, also omnic death, i mean it's not vivid but its implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-21
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-11-16 19:05:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11259075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redrosesforever/pseuds/Redrosesforever
Summary: The beginning of (what may be) a few stories of an original Overwatch character.





	Her Hands Shook

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, I'm a bit new to writing, so if you'd like to critique my work, I'd be happy to hear it honestly!  
> This story features my Overwatch OC; Moria Lithgow, an Irish-Canadian who I'm writing to try and flesh out more.  
> She does have some art of her that I've commissioned, just so you know what she looks like!  
> http://jealizing.tumblr.com/post/160061896189/oc-commission-for-that-mom-friend-thanks-for-the  
> http://fleeting-sanity.tumblr.com/post/161497940296/that-mom-friend-s-adorable-overwatch-oc-moria

The cafeteria was bustling with activity, chatter, and the scrape of utensils on plates ringing through the hall as agents of Overwatch dined for lunch. 

Moria looked down at her own plastic tray of food: a combination of Indian vegetable curry coupled with chocolate milk and Irish boiled potatoes. She scoffed to herself. Irish potatoes, they called them. It wasn’t even close to how the Irish truly made them, considering Ireland wasn’t even that far away from Switzerland. But it’d do for a quick lunch.

Groups of different level agents sat at the silver and grey tables, generally clumped together talking or doing rushed paperwork as their deadline approached or basking in the few minutes they had to unwind. She herself usually sat with the engineers and innovators of the facility – a group of about 20 or so people – but she was invited by Dr. Ziegler to sit with her table for today.

She appreciated the doctor’s help, even though it felt a bit odd with her being younger. At times it felt shameful – she should know how to take care of her own body, her own mind and health, she had been accepted into an organization known for being the top of the top, the best of the brightest. Moria forced the thought aside – letting a friendly smile grow on her face instead as she approached Angela’s table and tried not to show her nerves.

Angela sat with a group filled with members of differing specialties, but a few prominent faces stuck out to her that made her palms sweat. Strike Commander Morrison, arguably the most influential person at the table, followed by Commander Amari and Commander Reyes together in a small group.

Her hands shook the tray.

Across from them sat a large, humongous man with bulging muscles and a larger than life grin, a rather lanky girl with brown hair whose smile seemed to radiate, and Torbjorn, one of the senior engineers in her field and the only one of the three she recognized.

_What were they doing here?_

She sat down and pushed her tray to the side as Angela turned to her, straightening the bottom of her dress. “Commander Morrison, this is Moria Lithgow, the new engineer I was telling you about. She works with Lindholm, and she’s a wonder with robotics and machinery. Perhaps she could be of some use in our next mission in London?”

Moria nodded off. Of course, the doctor had asked for her not even 30 minutes ago to talk about this. When did she forget?

He nodded at her, shifting in his seat as he glanced to her. Moria stiffened as he met her eyes, a wave of uncomfort filling her as she tried to look at him to give him a good impression. She focused on a strip of greying hair that fell over his eyes.

“As I understand, you have studied recent omnic designs, correct?” Nod. “What can you tell us about these E-34’s and OR-14’s?”

She sat back and looked at his lapels as her mind scrambled to pick what little knowledge she had about those particular models.

“Well, I, I know those designs have heavy armour around … uh, around their torso and legs, because they were originally construction bots s-so that they wouldn’t get damaged from falls. But ah, their heads aren’t particularly well attached despite the main components being there, so theoretically, aiming for their head would uh … would be better because there’s a chance you could hit the vital wires…”

She looked back up, eyes flickering between the three commanders as they looked at each other. God, she hoped they didn’t know that already. Moria breathed again when she saw them muttering quietly to each other, seemingly taken with this new information. She hoped.

Morrison turned back to the table. “You heard what she said. Tracer, I’m relying on you particularly to take that in since you’ll be the closest to the enemy.”

The lanky girl beamed and nodded chipperly. “Got it!” He then turned to the large man.

“Now Reinhardt, you should still tr-“

The group jumped as a plate shattered on the floor nearby.

Moria gasped, her hands going numb.

 

Then suddenly everything changed in a second.

 

_Why am I here?_

She had walked through the door. 

_Why didn’t I think?_

She saw him there and anger welled up inside her. 

_Why didn’t I warn him?_

She smelled the flowers sitting on the living room table. She felt the sunlight landing on her skin from the windows.

_I could have just deactivated him._

She felt the weight of the gun in her hands, shaking with her rage.

_Why didn’t I wait?_

She raised the gun, his back still turned to her. Aiming for the chest. The vital components.

_I could’ve saved my child._

The recoil as the gun fired. The bullet hole in the wall. The sound of sparks fizzing and the body hitting the floor.

_I could have._

Then the smaller body rolling out of his arms.

_But I didn’t._

 

With a gasp, she returned to the cafeteria, Dr. Ziegler shaking her shoulder. Everything seemed muted at first before Moria turned her head. Angela was saying something. She looked down, seeing her knuckles white from her grip on the doctor’s hand. She pulled away.

Her shock diminished as she looked at the others sitting at the table, their eyes fixed on her. She felt her cheeks heat with anger. She didn’t want to be looked at. She was about to storm back to her room, standing up with a huff when she looked at her commanders.

She lowered herself back down, shame filling her as she wrung her hands together under their gaze. The three of the them looked at her with a mix of understanding, pity, and empathy. It was Reyes who spoke up first.

“Angela, you should lead her back to her room. We’ve got it from here.” He looked towards her, and despite what had just happened, she felt her chest flutter. “Thanks for your information. We’ll be sure to put it to good use and call you again if we need help.” He nodded at her, flashing a grin at her.

Moira managed a tender and thankful smile in return before standing up, the medic following her. She apologized for leaving them and her tray, but the groups assured her it was fine. She didn’t feel like it was, but she thanked them anyways.

The two didn’t talk much as they went through the hallways. Most it was Angela asking her questions, like how long she had been experiencing these symptoms, and offering her support and counselling. Overwatch was a war organization after all, they had the specialist.

Moira politely thanked her as they made it to her room, bidding the doctor another thank you before closing the door behind her. She paused a moment before resting her head against the door. She sighed. She kicked off her flats as she wandered to the bed, groaning as her head hit the pillow and she sank deep into it, one thought continuing to repeat in her head.

_I could’ve spared them._


End file.
